Chapter Seven #3
“I’ll tell my sisters their influence has rubbed off on me,” Alex said, dropping his head.
Denise sighed dramatically from the other side of the table. “If only all men allowed themselves to be influenced by the women in their lives.”
“We’d have fewer Andrew Tates and more Pedro Pascals,” I added.
That line resulted in a whole conversation about toxic masculinity and who served as positive role models for young men in this age of social media.
I was no longer surprised by Alex’s insightful commentary, and oftentimes I was content to just listen to him talk—and watch him talk—nursing my mojito and offering occasional nods of agreement.
At one point in the discussion, Alex stretched out his arm onto the back of my chair, flooding my nostrils with his crisp scent.
I tended to have a sensitive nose when it came to men’s cologne and found most brands much too strong for my taste.
But Alex’s scent was some delectable combination of earthy musk, striking citrus, and clean, fresh laundry.
A man had no business smelling that good, and I allowed myself several moments to just breathe him in.
What would it be like to be folded into his embrace?
Would his heady scent seep into your clothes? Into your skin?—
Abruptly, Denise nudged me under the table with her foot, and I blinked as I focused on her.
I raised my brows in question. Her gaze moved from me to Alex, and then back to me, her eyes going wide.
Shit. Was I being that obvious? Trying to ignore my racing heart, I shook my head, hoping I appeared confused.
“Is everything okay?” Alex asked, suddenly.
Double shit. I licked my lips as I reached for an answer. “Denise is just trying to convince me to order another drink, but I won’t be able to drive home if I do.”
My friend nudged my foot under the table again, but I ignored her.
“I can drive you home,” Alex said, his dark eyes sincere. “If you want another mojito, you should get it.”
I did not need Alex driving me home. Especially in the dangerous mood I was in.
“That’s nice of you,” I said, cautiously, “but I don’t want to leave my car here overnight. I did it once and stressed the whole night that it would be towed.”
“I don’t know how you were able to stress about your car after the amount of mojitos and rum and cokes you had that night,” Denise added with a cackle. “I slept like the dead afterward.”
Embarrassment heated me from the crown of my head to my toes. “Yeah, well, I’m a light sleeper.”
It was a ridiculous excuse, and I could feel Alex’s gaze on me.
This man threw me off-balance any time I was around him, and I was beginning to resent him for it.
Scratch that. I was beginning to resent myself for melting into a puddle of goo simply from a whiff of his cologne.
He was Caitlin’s boyfriend, and I apparently needed to remind myself of that ad nauseam.
It was bound to stick in my brain at some point… right?
After we had settled the bill, Denise, Alex, and I wandered outside, where we stopped to chat in the parking lot.
“You know, Alex, if you’re serious about reconnecting with your Puerto Rican roots, Sofia and I can plan some outings,” Denise said, leaning her hip against my car door.
Alex rocked back on his feet, his dark gaze flitting between Denise and me. “What did you have in mind?”
A slow smile slipped across Denise’s lips. “I was thinking of checking out a new salsa club that opened up downtown. Do you remember me mentioning it, Sof?”
I nodded. “La Respuesta? I’ve been wanting to go.”
Denise nodded, shifting closer to Alex. “Do you know how to dance salsa? Or merengue?”
Alex ducked his head. “I can dance both.”
“So you can do the white people’s versions?” Denise cocked a brow.
A laugh burst from my mouth, and I covered my face as Alex scowled in mock offense.
“I’ve never had a woman complain about my dancing,” Alex stated, leveling Denise with a challenging stare.
“At least to your face,” I murmured quietly, immediately stepping back when Alex swung his head toward me.
“Et tu, Brute?” he exclaimed, his expression adorably offended. But when a loud wheezing sound slipped from my lips, his eyes went wide. “What was that?”
My traitorous friend offered her own cackle. “It’s her hyena laugh.”
Slapping my hands over my face, I tried to collect myself, but the twitch of Alex’s mouth just made me laugh harder. But to his credit, he held his silence while I continued to laugh, his eyes soft even when I reached out to grab his arm, doubled over cackling.
“If you’re still willing to be seen in public with Sofia after that laugh,” Denise said, rolling her eyes, “let’s try to plan a night at La Respuesta. Maybe in a few weeks? Are you both down?”
“That laugh took the bite out of her betrayal.” Alex playfully pushed my arm. “Depending on the playoffs, count me in. I look forward to showing Sofia how wrong she is.”
Despite my best efforts, I could not suppress the grin I beamed up at him. “Bring it on.”